Up against the World
by xKiiwiii
Summary: Post BNW. Claire is the icon for all Specials and tries to create a world, where Specials can live openly. But many people think, Specials are a threat to every other human being and they are willing to use drastic measures to control them. Also Sylar has changed sides, but a new enemy is rising. SylarxClaire (PeterxEmma). Also Peter/Sylar friendship.
1. Chapter 1 - Sudden Changes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes. All rights go to Tim Kring.**

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**Chapter 1 – Sudden Changes**

Completely exhausted, but glad to finally be at home, Claire fell onto her couch. The way from Gretchen's to her new apartment was an adventure for itself, not that she had expected it to be anything else. Since Claire had survived her famous jump from a 10 meter high Ferris Wheel, there were reporters waiting for her around every other corner. She couldn't go outside without being recognized in a second, nor could she answer all of the reporter's questions.

_The famous, indestructible girl. _

Claire laughed dryly at the thought of her new nickname. It seemed, as if she had accomplished the exact opposite of what she actually wanted; a normal life, where she could show her ability in public, without being some freak show. What she had now, was a life in the spotlight, where everything was about her ability. That thing, that she previously used to separate herself from everybody else, was now used against her to make her an object of public exhibition. Deep in thoughts she remembered the day of her jump, which seemed to be a lifetime ago.

_January 2nd , 2010_

Claire looked into her father's eyes, but this time he would not control her and her actions. She wasn't the small girl anymore that needed to be protected. She had grown up over the years and became a woman, one who wanted to change something in the world so that people like her could live in freedom. She took a long breath, than she jumped.

The ground felt hard beneath her, but she just felt the pressure rather than the pain as her arm broke. Full of hope she stood up and looked into the reporters' stunned faces while they watched, how her arm started to put itself together again.

"My name is Claire Bennet.", she said loudly, "And this is attempt number...I guess, I kinda lost count."

A few moment the carnival was filled with silence. The reporters remained silent because they couldn't believe what they were seeing and the specials because they could just imagine the consequences her leap could have.

To Claire, it seemed as if everything happened in slow motion. She could hear her own fast and loud heartbeat, while her eyes wandered through the crowd of people so she could see how the others reacted to her jump.

She saw Lauren, who just stared at her in shock, while her mouth stood slightly open. With purpose she ignored her father; she couldn't look him in the eyes right after she destroyed everything he had worked for in only one second. Claire's eyes caught Hiro who looked at her in surprise but also with a small smile. And Peter…As she saw him, something changed within Claire. He had always been the one to support her, never lie to her and always be there for her but now as she saw his face, one full of earnest and doubts…He seemed to have changed since the day she last saw him, which was some time ago. He seemed to be harder, more serious but somehow released.

Claire almost didn't notice the man who stood right next to her uncle. Her blood froze in her veins as she watched Sylar watching her. But his presence wasn't the thing that unnerved her, it was his look; there was no self-pleased grin, no dark eyes that just waited to spot something that he could use for his own satisfaction. The corners of his mouth were slightly lifted in a totally natural way and with big eyes he stared at her, as if she had just saved the world from Lex Luther. Between all those shocked faces that looked up to her, his was the only one that appeared hopeful and honest.

She probably would have stared at him forever if there weren't those reporters. Now that the first shock was gone they approached her like vultures. Suddenly pulled out of her thoughts, Claire could only understand pieces of what they were saying.

"...you have this remarkable ability?"

"Did you know that you would survive..."

"...other people that can heal.."

"Where does that ability come from?"

Irritated Claire tried to concentrate on all of the journalists, but there was always more and more of them.

"Uhm...I..", Claire stuttered. She thought of how to show her ability, but she never thought about how to explain it to the people. Now she felt panic building up inside of her.

_Oh Lord, what was I thinking?_

"Do all your wounds heal that quickly?" She heard one female reporter asking.

"Yes, they do. I can't get hurt," Claire answered hastily. Well, she had to start somewhere.

"Where does this ability come from?" the young woman continued. She had short, red hair and was wearing an expensive looking blazer and stared at Claire like she was the 8th world wonder.

"I was born like this. Those abilities are anchored in my DNA," she replied.

"Are there other human beings like you? Are you human at all?"

Right as Claire wanted to answer that particular question a dark shadow appeared in front of her.

"That is enough questions," shouted a familiar voice that filled her heart with immense relief. Peter stood face to face with the reporters and tried to keep them away from Claire as well as possible. However, those vultures immediately started to question him about his relationship to Claire or if he knew more about the phenomenon. But Peter just kept shouting that they wouldn't be answering any questions at the moment. Nevertheless, he alone wasn't able to keep them away from Claire forever and just as the reporters threatened to knock Peter down they were distracted by the sound of loud sirens. Claire stood on her toes so that she could see what happened behind her uncle. She spotted a military vehicle with armed soldiers in it that shouted into their megaphones.

"Please go home! All your questions will be answered. Please clear that place!" The carnies followed the instructions instantly and fled together with their families. They most likely didn't have that good experiences with people from the military or the government. The reporters also backed off of Claire as the soldiers started to pull them away from her. Peter quickly turned around and looked Claire in the eyes; his long hair fell loosely into his face. Claire wanted to tell him, how happy she was to see him, but he left no time for that. "We have to go," he said shortly.

Without any more words he grabbed her hand and pulled her in a direction away from the people. Behind her Claire heard the soldiers shouting, which led Peter to run even faster. Soon they reached the end of the park and ran across the street, without sparing any cars a glance. Still holding her hand Peter led his niece into a small narrow alley, where he took another corner after a few meters so that they stood in an even narrower street. They were greeted by a few hissing cats that jumped across the filled bins, "Hold on tight," was Peter's next order and Claire did as she was told.

She put her arms around his neck and in the blink of an eye they were flying through the air over New York. From up there she could still see the carnival in Central Park and the crowd of people, which became even bigger and was now curiously watching the reporters and soldiers that were still having arguments.

In silence they flew until they reached Angela Petrelli's huge mansion and Peter carefully landed on the balcony where Claire untangled herself from his arms. It was pretty dark already but there was enough light on the balcony that they could discern each other. Claire took a step back and examined Peter again. He looked at her as if she was a total stranger, as if they hadn't see each other in years.

"Claire," was the only thing he said.

Claire shifted nervously. His next action would show her if she would regret her jump or if she would celebrate it. All his face told her was that he couldn't really believe what was happening right now.

"Do you know what you just did?" he asked slowly and Claire nodded. She also just realized the gravity of her actions; soon the whole human race would know about the existence of Specials. She had started a chain of events whose outcome was unknown. If everything went like planned, her dream will become true and Specials will be able to live a normal life in freedom. But if something went wrong…Claire's face drained of color as her blood rushed away from it. If she was wrong and the world wasn't ready then everyone with abilities was doomed.

They would be all locked up, like when days when Nathan was still alive; she smiled slightly at the thought of him. Her dear father would have turned the whole country upside down just to stop her from showing the world more than she already had.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked her uncle quietly, because Nathan would have been for sure. But Peter shook his head, he wasn't his brother.

"No. No, of course not," she smiled and Peter's lips formed into something that looked similar to a smile, but wasn't his normal smile. "This was just...unexpected. We have to plan on how to deal with this."

Claire nodded and said, "But you agree with me, don't you? It's time for people to know the truth." Peter chewed on his lower lip nervously and tried to look anywhere but at Claire. Just as her heart was filled with doubt another person appeared, one who made it even harder for her not to freak out. Angela Petrelli opened—dressed elegantly as always—the glass door that separated the balcony from the hallway. "You two better come in," she said with a cold voice. Her eyes were focused on Claire and she didn't spare a glace for Peter.

Claire looked at her uncle and saw that he had that atypical facial expression on again, as if his mother was a stranger to him.

"Hiro and Noah are waiting in the living room already. I think we should all discuss the situation."

Claire and Peter looked at each other for a moment, not really happy with their guests. Claire was scared by the thought of facing her father after she destroyed everything he had worked for, all in her name, for the last 20 years. Even though she was still mad at him for all the secrets he held from her and lies he had told her she didn't want to break his heart._ I might have to. Maybe we are meant to fight on two different sides. _He would probably try everything to make 'everything alright again' behind her back, but this time she would fight all the lies and betrayals he had planned.

"Hey.", said Peter and nudged Claire with his elbow. "It doesn't matter what happens, I'm always on your side." His words gave Claire new hope. He knew that her hero would always be there for her, even though he didn't always have same opinion.

She smiled at him as they entered the luxurious house passing hallways until they found themselves in the living room. It was a big room, the curtains were closed in front of the windows and some dimmed lights with a burning fireplace lighting the space. At the old, wooden desk stood Tracy Strauss with Noah. She was whispering something as they entered the room, but Claire was too far away to understand it.

Ando sat on one of the big leather sofas while his friend stood up to greet the newcomers. "Cheerleader!" he shouted, "And Peter Petrelli," with a grin he bowed shortly. _At least there's one person around here who doesn't hate me. _Nervously Claire looked at her father who still stood at the wooden desk talking to the blonde. Sighing, she took a seat on the sofa with Peter and looked up at Angela full of expectation.

She just smiled quickly and started talking to the group, "Now, I have seen this day coming, of course but I was surprised that our secrets would be revealed by Claire and not by some insane man like Samuel." She lifted one of her eyebrows, "And on purpose, too." Claire shifted uncomfortably on her seat as Noah spoke without facing the others.

"This is all going to be alright. I'll send René to the reporters and we can make everybody else believe that the recordings are a fake. In a few weeks this thing will be forgotten again."

Claire stood up abruptly and shouted, a bit louder than originally planned, "I'm not letting you do that again!"

Now her father turned around and his cold eyes locked with Claire's, "We will not let you destroy the company's decades of work. Do you have any idea of what you have done? What this might lead to?" He started stalking through the room and Claire tried not to show her anger and answered him with a look full of coolness. "You can't just change history", he continued, "The world is not ready. It will never be ready. You can't just risk the life of thousands, just because you're tired of hiding your ability, so stop behaving like a stubborn child and just do what I say."

Claire just wanted to scream at him, tell him that she wasn't a child any longer she was just the opposite. She was an adult and ready to do everything to change something, to make the world a better place. But Peter's hand on her shoulder held her anger back.

"Maybe we should look at the situation from different perspectives and think about what to do next", Peter said slowly and Noah glared at him.

"There is only _one _way of dealing with it and that is to undo it."

"That is not possible anymore, I fear," Angela indicated shortly, "In only half an hour Claire will be on every news channel in the country. Her video might already have had a thousand views on the internet. You can't undo something like that, not in this modern world."

The group remained silent, understanding that everything was going to change soon and no one had the power to stop it.

So that was it, Claire was going to be world-famous. She shivered at the thought; she had never planned to become some sort of icon. _Maybe I should have thought this through a bit more. _Everybody would know Claire Bennet, the girl that could never die.

"It has to be possible," she heard Noah shouting, but Angela just shook her head.

"Tomorrow more Specials will reveal their abilities, I saw it." Her cold and knowing eyes were focused on her granddaughter and it seemed like she was able to read her like an open book. "We will indeed, be living in a new world soon. The question is: how are we forming this world?"

Tracy took a step forward and crossed her arms over her chest. Claire smiled at her and realized that she hadn't really thanked Tracy for saving her and her dad earlier that day. The taller blonde looked at the group in concern. "We could use Claire as a sympathizer, as a representative in public." Claire didn't miss the word 'use' but she didn't interrupt because it seemed Tracy was fighting on her side.

"Absolutely not," Noah contradicted loudly.

"That's not your decision," Claire hissed trying to sound as confident as possible, even though in reality the idea of having so much responsibility scared her. But she made her bed and now she had to lay in it, besides, she would do anything to support her kind.

"I'll do it," she announced, "I revealed my ability and now I will make the best out of it."

"Where is that suddenly coming from?" Her father had asked and put both of his hands on Claire's shoulders to look her in the eye. "I thought you wanted a normal life. What you are suggesting will give you none of that."

Claire shook her head and smiled halfhearted. He really didn't understand what her problem was. "I don't want a _normal _life, dad!" she said trying to explain, "I just don't want to hide any longer. I don't want to use this ability to build walls around me. I want to be _free." _She felt her throat tighten, as she realized, that just yesterday Sylar said something very similar to her. Was it possible that his words influenced her so much, that she jumped of that Ferris Wheel? His face on the carnival appeared in front of her eyes.

_The only one with hope. _

Claire forced the idea out of her head and listened to Tracy, who had begun to speak again, "Claire would be perfect for the job. She is young, has a pretty face, charisma and an ability that isn't dangerous."

Relieved Claire smiled at Tracy; she knew that Tracy didn't want to hide any longer, too. She had lost everything because of the company and her ability and even thought about joining the carnival. But there shouldn't be only one place where Specials can live free and accepted. The whole world had to change before a normal and open life for someone with an ability was really possible. People had to learn to accept others that were different rather than bagging and tagging them like animals.

"I can't believe you support her," Noah shouted and looked at everyone in the room.

"I don't like the idea that Claire wants to put herself in the line of fire either," Peter agreed, "But she can decide that for herself and she should do just that." Thankfully Claire smiled at her uncle who she knew would be right next to her until the end.

After a few more discussions with Noah and some temporary plans by Claire, Tracy and Angela the whole group was now exhausted as they sat in the Petrelli's living room. Hiro and Ando just listened most of the time, but had basically the same opinion as Claire.

Despise her little speech earlier though Angela couldn't stop planning every step for Claire: what she should be doing, what she should be saying, even what clothes she should be wearing. Noah had mostly stamped through the room angrily, somewhere between madness and deep concern. Peter had been silent during most of the discussions. He still seemed nervous and shy, which wasn't him at all. It was late after midnight as the group decided to split up and wait for the next day's events. As Claire asked Hiro if he could teleport her to the dorm, Angela pulled her last ace out of her sleeve.

"The reporters and the government are already waiting for you right there, dear," she said and pulled a small, silver key out of her handbag and gave it to her granddaughter. "I took the opportunity to rent an apartment for you. I had the feeling you might need it." Furthermore, she slipped a piece of paper with an address written on it into Claire's hand which she looked at incredulously. A student's room wasn't enough, her grandmother had to go and pick an apartment in Upper Manhattan.

Thankfully, Claire accepted the gift but a sad smile grew on her face as she thought about Gretchen, who was probably going crazy at the moment. Claire might as well call her tomorrow, so she could tell her that she was alright.

Peter took a quick glance at the piece of paper Claire was still holding in her hand. "I know where this is, I can take you there," he offered and smiled at Claire. He had already taken Hiro's power during their meeting to be faster, more mobile. Claire didn't say no to the offer, her exhaustion made itself know as her body screamed for sleep.

"I'll come see you tomorrow, then," Tracy said to Claire as she slipped into her coat, "Since you are so popular, you really shouldn't wander through the streets of New York by yourself." There was a note of concern in her voice as she spoke so Claire smiled at her encouragingly.

Noah followed the blonde as she left, but said a few more words for goodbye and hugged his daughter tightly. "I hope you know what you are doing," he whispered into her ear.

"Me too," Claire whispered back and looked after him as he took his coat under the arm and left through a dark, heavy door. Now that he was gone, she felt the previous anger coming back, as she remembered the pictures she saw in the room of mirrors. She tried not to, but she often thought about what the next secret might be that she revealed about her father. With every new lie and every new betrayal it felt like she knew her father less and less.

Actually that was just fair, because he didn't knew much about her, none of her fears, her problems or her wishes. Probably when he would start to understand the way she felt and thought, the bridges between them could be repaired, but would he ever really be able to see? They were so different sometimes, even though they fought on the same side…they did, didn't they?

Sighing Claire walked towards her uncle who was saying goodbye to his mother. Right as he was about to put his hand on Claire's shoulder to teleport them Angela raised her voice again. "Oh, and Peter?" She said slowly without looking at him directly, "Please tell your friend to stay out of this."

Peters face hardened with her words and he stared at her for a moment. "Did you know, what would happen?" he asked. Irritated Claire looked from one Petrelli to the other. Did she miss something?

"Of course I knew it, but I couldn't stop you, could I?" With her words her face turned towards her son and she examined him with sad eyes. Peter looked at her with a pained expression and shifted uncomfortably. "Please, try to understand," he began desperately, but didn't finish the sentence.

A tiny, sad smile started to form on Angela's face, which seemed to crack her white skin. She stepped in front of her son and laid her thumb and index finger on his chin, until she turned around without any other words and left the room. Peter sighed and put his hand on his confused niece's shoulder and in the blink of an eye they were standing on the roof of a different building.

The cold wind of the night lashed against Claire's face and blew her hair into all directions. She looked around and admired the beautiful New York skyline for a moment with all its lights and color then turned around and stood face to face with Peter again.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked him curiously and watched, how he sighed and furrowed his brows. "That's a very long story," he said finally and smiled slightly. Claire stroked his cheek with the back of her hand as the wind blew Peter's long hair into his face, which made him appear younger than he actually was.

"You behaved weirdly today," she began with a concerned voice, "It is still about Nathan's death?" Her uncle shook his head and looked at her with a gaze, which seemed to be light years away. "No, it's not that, it's just..." Suddenly Peters face began to crack and his well-known, youthful grin lightened up his features. He took a step towards his niece and put his arms around her. Smiling Claire fell into the embrace and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I'm just very glad to see you again," he whispered.

Short laughter escaped her mouth but Claire didn't end the contact. "It's not like we haven't seen each other in years," she giggled. Still grinning Peter let go of her and looked into her bright eyes.

"Yes, it is," he said gently while he was lifting an eyebrow, as if he was saying something totally obvious. "Like I said, it's a very long story, but I will tell you everything soon, when we are alone. But you had enough excitement today and I don't think you could take any more sudden changes."

Claire gave him a worried expression, but Peter shook his head. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad, it's just...new." The last word seemed to have an important meaning, but Claire couldn't think of one at the moment. But her uncle was right; she really didn't have any more energy for long stories or more problems.

"Fine.", she said and Peter winked at her before he disappeared in front of her.

_One week later_

Moaning Claire turned around on her couch. Peter still hadn't told her what happened to him, because there was no time left to catch up with him since Tracy and her grandmother were constantly chasing her around and Peter was constantly busy. Maybe she should give him a call, the last week had happened so much she wanted to talk about.

In an unbelievably short time Claire had become the icon for all Specials. With everyday more and more of them showed their ability in public, which lead to the fact that all sorts of governments had to deal with the situation. The countries with the most problems were those that were very conservative or religious, because almost every religion had categorized abilities as the devil's work.

There were so many different reactions from different groups of people: Fear, fascination, surprise, anger, rejection sometimes even violence. Even though Mohinder Surresh traveled back to the US the day after Claire's jump, to answer all the reporters' and scientists' questions about the source and effects of those abilities, most people were still in a state of shock in which they tried to keep everything that they did not know away from them with every necessary measure.

Claire tried to force the thoughts out of her head, but every day there were new stories about people who were abandoned by their families or violated because of their ability. It didn't matter, what she told herself, a small part of her would always know, that everything that would happen to Specials in the future was her fault. Because of that she tried to do whatever she could to prevent this to end in a catastrophe. For example, President Jefferson had announced a few days ago, that he demanded a general testing and compulsory registration for every Special, to evaluate their abilities, categorize them and, in the worst case, contain them.

Claire could understand why the people were scared, she knew from experience what could happen if a powerful Special loses control, or if a bad person had a mighty ability. The ideas behind Jefferson's words were good, but the method was terribly wrong.

Specials had to be offered training, so they could learn how to control their powers and how to use them for good and not hurt anybody. To let them feel hated, feared and controlled would just lead to the opposite—the old company had shown this very detailed—and Claire shivered as she thought of the escapees from level 5. The old company was re-opened, but not a word was mentioned about it in public. Apparently nobody thought it was important that Specials were kept and tested for decades against their will. For the moment Claire was under the control of her relatives, but soon she would unearth the truth and everyone would know what they did.

She scrolled down her list of contact on her cellphone to call Peter, but was interrupted by a noise from the stairwell, a noise that made her cringe. It was footsteps, footsteps of a lot of people who sounded like they stopped just in front of her door. Only one moment passed until wooden splinters from her broken door flew through her apartment and soldiers entered the room. Claire jumped off the sofa in panic and searched for an escape but it was already too late. Twitching, she fell onto the ground as several tazers bored their way into her torso and electrified her, until everything went black.

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**A/N: So, that's the first chapter :D I had so many ideas in my head about Sylairefictions so I decided to write them down. A thousand 'THANK YOU's go to askclairebennet who read the story and corrected the mistakes, that girl really saved my life :D **

**If you like leave a review :)**

**Doro**


	2. Chapter 2 - Taking Flight

**D: I don't own Heroes :)**

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**Chapter 2**

Claire felt as if she was a hundred miles under water. She was unable to think straight and could only perceive fractions of her surroundings. Her body felt numb to an extent, but she could feel the cold metal pressed to her back. As she tried to open her eyes, the only thing she saw was a blinding, shapeless light forcing Claire to keep her eyes shut again. She could hear the muffled voice of a man, who was standing close to her.

"Lock her up in one of the cells, before she wakes up. Then bring him in."

The man spoke with a British accent with a deep, full voice. The next thing Claire noticed was that she moved, she was carried by someone.

_No, that's not possible._

Her mind cleared up as she realized that she lay on a metal stretcher being pushed through a corridor by two people. Through her closed lids Claire could see the clinical white light from the lamps above her.

"She'll recover consciousness in about an hour, the dose was high enough to knock out an elephant," one of the people—a man—said. Claire didn't dare open her eyes to alert them that she was already awake. Apparently the people—who had kidnapped her and now tried to keep her in this place—had not thought about the fact that she needed a higher dose because of her ability. Somehow Claire had to use this to her advantage. Slowly she tried to move her hands and noticed that her wrists were buckled up and connected to the stretcher. As she moved her feet she noticed that they were not tied up.

"That's her cell," the second man directed and Claire could hear how he moved away from her and the other guard. As he stuck the key into her designated cell Claire took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

With a lurch she sat up straight and moved both of her feet into the first man's direction—she wasn't surprised to note the military uniforms and weapons the men were wearing—before the astonished man in front of Claire could take the gun out of its holder, the cheerleader's feet hit him hard in the pit of his stomach. Panting, he put his arms around his torso just to receive a second kick right into his face.

Hastily, Claire turned around to face the other soldier just in time as he had already drawn his weapon and was ready to shoot. Out of instinct Claire brought her entire weight to the left side and fell, together with the metal stretcher, right onto the soldier. The gun slipped out of his hand as he fell back and landed on the grey floor.

"You little bitch," he hissed and grab some of Claire's hair. As he pulled her into his direction a sharp pain went through the cheerleader's head.

_Pain. I am feeling pain. _Somehow those bastards must have blocked her ability, which meant that this soldier was indeed able to hurt her. Luckily she noticed soon enough that the buckle at her right hand had worked itself loose. Quickly Claire raised her arm and hit the man's eye with her elbow, before he could take hold of his gun again. Screaming in pain the soldier let go of the girl's hair so she could move away from him and grab the gun. For a second she thought about shooting the guy, but whoever those men might be, she didn't want to become a murderer because of them. So she took hold of the barrel and smashed the weapon against the soldier's temple. Her wrist ached at the contact, but Claire gritted her teeth and smiled. She had almost forgotten how sweet pain could be. Proud of herself, she looked how the man sunk to the ground unconsciously.

Still she wasn't done yet.

As Claire turned around she saw the second man beginning to rise slowly. Astonished, he looked up to the 19-year old blonde, who had just knocked out two soldiers of the army of the United States while being tied up.

"Open the second strap!" Claire ordered out of breath, the weapon still pointing at the man's face. Silently the man stood up and freed Claire's second hand from the stretcher.

Right after her hand was freed she took a few steps back, scrutinising the soldier, aware of the power she now had over him. He was so young, in his early twenties probably and seemed to be totally overtaxed with the situation.

_He looks so scared, _Claire thought.

She had already seen so much that someone pointing a gun at her had become almost normal to her. What was a guy like that doing in a hell hole like this? Claire didn't want to hurt him, but she had no other choice, she couldn't just leave someone, who would give the alarm the second she had left.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and the next thing she heard was the thud of the barrel meeting the soldier's neck in a way that made him fall to the ground.

Now that her environment was relatively safe Claire started glancing around. She was standing in a long corridor with light grey walls that made the hallway appear narrower than it actually was. As well as heavy iron doors which as Claire now knew lead to cells.

_Are there Specials in those cells? Have they locked them up just like they tried to lock me up? _

She was fighting to resist the urge to pull one of those doors open and help the people that might be sitting there rotting. However, Claire knew that she had to escape as soon as possible or they would catch her again and that time they would get the sedatives right.

The first problem that occurred to her was the two men lying on the floor unconscious. If nobody had heard the noises already, the soldiers would alarm the authorities as soon as they woke up.

Claire stuck the gun into the waistband of the grey pants she was wearing—it could have been a trick of her mind but they grey top and pants she wore looked a lot like the old level 5 clothing.

Despite her aching wrist she grabbed the soldiers' collars and dragged them into the open standing cell that had been reserved for her. Before fishing the key out of the one soldier's pockets she pulled the second gun out of the holster around his waist, removed the full magazine and slipped it into her waistband. Gripping her gun tightly she closed the heavy door.

The following (and much harder) step was to find a way out of what-ever-this-place-was, preferably without killing anyone or getting killed herself. Claire knew that there were other guards on the side which she had come from so she decided to go the other way. With a light step she ran along the corridor, ignoring dozens of closed cell doors. She stopped in panic as she reached the first corner, hearing hushed voices from around it. Holding her breath she pressed her body against the wall, until her heart was smashing holes into the cement. Miraculously, the two soldiers that walked past the corridor didn't notice the little, armed blonde as they were having a fiery discussion about the new Iron Man movie.

After Claire couldn't hear the voices any longer she dared to take a look at what lay around the corner.

The corridor was much wider here and the cell doors have been displaced by usual office doors. Slowly Claire crept along the right side of the corridor, noticing that she hadn't seen any windows yet. _I'm probably in the basement of the building. Sure, what else? _Her steps grew faster and she could hardly believe her luck, until she heard the voices coming back.

"Somehow he managed to escape his cell. Find him!" a female voice ordered and Claire could hear several persons—not only two like she had hoped—fanning out into different directions.

_Dammit, I'm trapped. _Even with the gun—still held in her hand securely—she wouldn't be able to defend herself against so many enemies especially when her ability was still blocked.

Paralysed by her fear she stood rooted on the spot, waiting to be spotted by the soldiers.

Just when a team of soldiers was about to turn around the corner, Claire felt a large hand enclosing her upper arm and pulling her backwards. A second hand was placed above her trembling lips, to keep her from screaming.

Whoever had grabbed her now pulled her back inside of a small broom closet and shut the door that led to the soldier-filled corridor close. A few seconds passed, and Claire didn't know if she should be relieved or even more scared than before, until the hand slowly came off her mouth. Curiously, Claire turned her head around to see the face of her unexpected saviour just so it could make her blood freeze.

"You!" she shouted. The previous relief was gone and was replaced by the always returning anger, the burning hate she remembered just too well.

"Shhhhh!" Sylar hissed back. He was wearing similar clothes as Claire and had a few scratches across his cheek, so she obviously wasn't the only person whose abilities had been blocked.

"You want them to find us?" he whispered.

Claire wanted to scream at him, wanted to get away from him. She thought about storming out of the closet, just so the soldiers would find him, even if she was captured when doing so. But her common sense made her remain silent, sitting next to this monster, while wishing her glares could burn holes into his stupid face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she whispered instead as she became aware of her closeness to the serial killer and wanted to vomit. His back was pressed to one of the grey walls and the ex-cheerleader tried to get as far away from him as the small room allowed.

Sylar raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I was here to have a nice cup of tea and some pie with my friends," he murmured statistically, "What do you think I'm doing here?"

Claire would have loved to punch him in the face especially because he wasn't able to heal but still she tried to avoid loud noises.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked, but Sylar shook his head.

"But I know, how we can find out," he whispered and pushed himself past Claire to reach the door.

The blonde flinched at his use of the word 'we'. "What do you mean, 'we'? Tell me one good reason, why I should follow you."

Sylar laid his hand on the door-handle and looked down at her with a crooked half-smile. "Because you won't get out of this place on your own," he answered and opened the door just a gap, until he opened it completely and stepped out of the closet. "They will come back," he started before Claire could protest, "at the end of the corridor is a staircase, we should start there."

Without any other words he started going into the direction the soldiers had come from. Claire climbed out of the closet and looked after him in disbelief. Sylar already had been acting all weird a week ago when he 'visited' her in Arlington, cutting her life up into a few keywords and telling her how alike they were and now he was here and wanted to...what _was he actually doing_? Was he still on his nobody-loves-me-and-I-want-friends-trip and actually tried to _help_ her, or did he just want to kidnap her as soon as they got out and kill some of her family members as usual?

A part of her wanted to laugh out loud while the other part of her wanted to scream in frustration but as soon as she heard footsteps behind her she knew she didn't have a choice. It was hard to accept but Sylar was right—she wouldn't make it out on her own.

Sighing, she started to go after him, until she found him pressed against one of the walls.

"Did they paralyse your ability?" he asked with a hushed voice and Claire nodded. His eyes furrowed and he took a step back so they could hide behind the corner. A second later Claire also knew why.

"How was that guy even able to escape, I thought, they had anaesthetised him?"

"I dunno, he's some kind of a super-mutant, I guess that stuff couldn't stop him for long."

Claire thought about handing Sylar her gun, but he would shoot the soldiers at sight and every other person standing in his way. Her father would probably do the same in that situation; one morally grey decision more or less didn't make a difference. Suddenly Claire heard a third voice. It was the Briton that had told the guards to get her into one of the cells.

"We have a problem, Bennet escaped. Every man available goes looking for her, finding Sylar is secondary." With this order the two soldiers loaded their guns and started going into the direction she and Sylar were still standing.

While Sylar murmured something like "secondary...my ass..." Claire gripped her gun tighter. Before she could do anything Sylar used the element of surprise to jump past Claire and let his fist go down onto the first soldier that came across so it hit him directly between the eyes. He cried out in agony and wasn't fast enough to block Sylar's knee that went straight up into the pit of his stomach.

The second soldier, who was a lot bigger than the first one, grabbed Sylar's collar and pushed him up against the wall. He had much more muscle strength than the serial killer and squeezed his throat with his upper arm. The man took his gun from his holster with the other hand but Claire was faster. Her gun was already pointed at the man and almost touched his temple as the tiny blonde took a step forward.

"Weapon down!" she ordered, trying to sound confident, which she wasn't. Claire thought about if she would be able to pull the trigger if the soldier attacked. She saw in his eyes, that he was asking himself the same question.

Luckily he decided to follow her instructions and let his weapon drop to the ground, but still held gasping Sylar up against the wall.

"Let him go!" she ordered hesitatingly. She didn't know how big this building was and if Sylar was so eager to get her out she might as well take the offer. She could deal with the consequences as soon as they left this place behind.

When Sylar could move again he bent down to pick up the gun. "Not bad, cheerleader," he remarked and grinned at her. Claire just rolled her eyes at him. _I should have left him here. _While Claire kept her eyes riveted on the two soldiers Sylar went on to the glass door that separated the corridor from the staircase. When he looked through he started to curse.

"What is it?" Claire asked annoyed.

"There are cameras everywhere," he replied and crossed his arm arms in front of his chest.

Claire paused for a second, looked around and mused, "Why aren't there any cameras down here?"

Sylar examined the soldier, who was standing in front of the wall like a pillar of salt.

"Clearly somebody doesn't want anyone else to see what's happening in the basement."

A cold shiver ran down the girl's spine and she thought about the other cells she had passed. "There were a lot more cells down the hall. What if there are more Specials, shouldn't I free them?" she wondered, speaking more to herself than to the murderer standing right next to her. Still he was the one to answer her.

"This is most likely a high security building. It will be hard enough, to smuggle us out of here. We can't get a whole group." Claire bit her lower lip. He was right. _Again_. "We can think of something to get them out, as soon as we leave this place," Sylar continued and started to examine the card reader, which was attached to the wall next to the glass door.

Disbelieving, Claire processed his answer. "What are you even talking about this whole time?" she hissed, both angry and confused. "Since when are you interested in other persons' lives? Why aren't you leaving me behind anyway?"

As she turned around she saw his face clearly for the first time. There were three scratches on his right cheek, that was covered with stubble and his strong eyebrows gave him his usual, dangerous expression but somehow he looked different. It was his eyes that looked at her with the same intensity as the day she jumped off the Ferris wheel. She always thought his eyes would be black but now she saw the fine brown sparkles inside of them. His gaze seemed to bore into her and cling to her soul; still it held the saddest expression she had ever seen.

"It's a long story." he said simply and smiled. Before she could ask what he meant Sylar stepped past her and addressed the soldier with a raised gun. "It would be great if you handed me the card to open this door." The man fished the card out of his chest pocket morosely. He probably knew what kind of man was standing in front of him otherwise he wouldn't follow his orders so quickly.

"You're not getting out of here, I promise you that." he hissed and handed Sylar the card.

"Wanna bet?" The serial killer challenged and turned his back on the other man.

"They'll see us," he told Claire, "That means we will meet more of those guys than we like. How many shots does your gun have left?"

"All of them and I have a second magazine," she stated.

Sylar raised one eyebrow and cocked his head. "Well, then all we need is a little bit of luck." With those words he pushed the card into the little computer and stormed through the glass door, into the staircase.

Claire turned around and tried to keep in step with Sylar but with her short legs she couldn't take as many steps at one time.

"We need to get out of the basement, before we can..." Sylar begun, but his words were swallowed by a sudden siren crying through the staircase making Claire's ears ache.

She knew she was running up the stairs but her body seemed to do it itself. The only thing on her mind was the unknown number of armed men that were after her and the other fugitive, who could leave her behind any second and let those monsters take her away mercilessly.

The siren's crying filled the space just Claire's own pumping heartbeat seemed to be louder. Paralysed by the adrenaline running through her body she almost didn't notice the door that was right in front of them. Just as Sylar was about to open it a swarm of security guards came streaming into their direction. Multiple gunshots cut the air combined with the sound of Sylar and Claire's cries.

The bullets bore themselves into her body, tearing her flesh apart as if it was made of paper. She could feel her ribs break, her lungs fill with blood, and her arms crash as she fell back and rolled down the stairs. Lying on a small platform she found herself and Sylar coated in red, filling the floor with blood.

_I'm not dead. _She had been shot several times, but could still discern all of her environment. The pain was still there, but she could literally feel her ability's energy flowing through her veins. Her bones began to readjust and the holes in her body closed themselves. She turned her head slightly and saw that Sylar was still lying next to her motionless. She wanted to wake him up, but two large hands grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up.

Not aware of her survival the soldier huffed in surprise as the blonde started to untangle herself kicking and screaming. She had lost hold of the gun and now tried to hit the men and women around her with her feet but there were just too many.

"Let go of me!" she screamed, but somebody held her mouth shut with his hand. Unable to defend herself she continued to struggle against the much bigger force. Now it was over.

They were going to lock her in the last hole in this place, so she would never see the sun again. It was always like this, she had that significant power that made her immortal and with that—invincible. But she couldn't even defend herself and she couldn't keep anybody from using or capturing her. There had always been Peter, or her dad, or Nathan to save her, but now nobody was here and nobody would come. She was on her own.

"It's all right, we got both of them," a woman spoke into her radio set. Claire gave up fighting and stood up, one soldier holding her arm on every side. She took a look at the ground where another woman pulled out a handcuff to immobilize Sylar who still wasn't healing. He would probably be able to escape, as soon as his abilities returned, but he wouldn't come back to get her.

Her guards started moving downwards, glaring at them Claire began to move. They had taken only a few steps until she heard a loud, cracking noise behind her. Electricity shot through her body like thousands of needles. The two men next to her collapsed on the ground unconscious, but her ability kept the blonde awake.

As she turned around she saw Sylar, panting as he sat up straight, while his bones snapped back into place soundly. She looked up and examined the blood covered cheerleader in front of her. "Well," he breathed, "I guess we're back in the game." Claire sighed.

_Well, from being with guys who wanted to lock her up to a guy who sawed open my skull and apparently forgot about it—_As Claire heard one of the men behind her groaning she realized that she wasn't saved just because her and Sylar's powers came back.

They still needed to get out of this prison and right after that she could leave that son of a bitch to himself.

Quickly the two prisoners started running up the stairs, but they were already expected. A line of armed guards blocked their way to the next door and were pointing at Sylar and Claire with their guns.

"Fire!" One man shouted and not even a second later a dozen of bullets was flying right into their direction. Before she could react, Sylar stood in front of Claire holding his hand up in concentration. Most of the bullets stopped in the air, but still two of them hit his shoulder. He let out a grunt and stretched out his hand, which made the bullets fly into the soldiers' direction. Claire took a hold of Sylar's arm, to keep him from killing more people, until she noticed that he had steered them downwards, so they would hit the men's legs. Most of them were now lying on the floor panting, trying to get another shot. The ones still standing were thrown up against the wall by Sylar's telekinetic force.

"You first," he muttered. Claire looked at him in disgust. "What makes you think, you could give me any orders?" she hissed and Sylar rolled his eyes. "Would you _please _go through the door, I need to keep our buddies in check." Claire's eyes tighten, but she stomped over the trapped soldiers. _That self-righteous bastard._ For him this place would be perfect, they probably had some cemented cell a hundred metres under the earth where not even the powerful Sylar could escape from.

He should be locked away forever, spending the eternity he had stolen from her in the cold, dark hole he belonged in. Not only would the world be a better place without him, but Claire would be able to live in peace without having to fear the death of another beloved person. If she just knew where his moved weak spot was, she could just leave him here as a wrapped up present for the people running that place.

As Claire stepped through the door, bright daylight made her eyes tighten. She was standing in an open room with stairs on both sides that were leading downwards. In front of the cheerleader a huge window, which was secured with bars, separated the prison from the environment.

She would have expected the prison to be somewhere under a normal appearing company building—like level 5—but a look out of that window told her otherwise. Long tendrils twined around the bars like snakes clinging on to their victims stealing their very last breath. Behind those there was a huge forest, with all sorts of trees Claire had never seen before in her life.

Was she in South America? She couldn't remember her transport, so she also didn't know how far she was away from home.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as she heard Sylar's footsteps behind her back. "Well, that's a way out." he said smirking.

Before Claire could ask what he meant, the glass in front of her cracked by Sylar's telekinetic push and the bars started to bend. _So I'm gonna jump out of a window again? This is becoming a habit. _Sylar finished his work just in time, because there were already new agents running up from both sides of the room.

"Time to go," the killer next to her stated and he didn't have to tell Claire twice. She took a deep breath, started running and threw herself through the crack in the wall. The air around her was warm and thick. The seconds of falling felt good, they felt free. She closed her eyes out of instinct while the ground kept coming closer and closer. She heard her bones crack as she hit it with an enormous force, but that was everything she was given by her body. The pain she felt back in the prison, the pain she had been so thankful for, was now gone.

Silently, she sat up straight and started adjusting her bones. She could see the blue and black spots disappear, but she felt as empty and unfeeling as the day Sylar had taken her ability—the first day of her changing into something less and less human.

The thud right next to her was accompanied by painful groaning that made her smile satisfied, but also feeling more furious. He was still able to feel pain, he, the unfeeling monster, who couldn't even be human if he tried to be. But still somehow he managed to use all the good parts of _her _ability and Claire was left with the bad parts.

Claire wanted to give a saucy comment, but she was interrupted by bullets that were rushing through the air from above their heads. Quickly Claire jumped onto her feet, not sparing a glance for Sylar, who was still lying on the ground, fiddling his legs together.

The deep green forest gave her enough shelter to not be hit by any of the bullets, so she ran as fast as she could. They wouldn't find her if she hid well enough and she could survive as long as she wanted until she found a way out of the forest.

As she heard another pair of feet catching up with her, the blond turned around without stopping. Sylar was jumping over the tricky roots, but what shocked Claire even more, was the heavy truck approaching the two escapees with high speed.

Panicking, she tried to make her short legs run faster, but the ground was too humid and uneven. As Sylar reached her, he took hold of her wrist and pulled her with him. Her first reaction was to fight against his grip, which almost made them both stumble and fall, but at the sound of bursting wood behind them she swallowed her ego and ran with him. Still she knew that they couldn't keep running forever and the truck's speed increased every second.

"Hold on, okay?!" Claire heard Sylar shout against the wind. He started running even faster and then she lost the ground under her feet. Claire let out a gasp of surprise as she felt Sylar's arm around her waist and out of reflex she took hold of his shirt.

She must look like an idiot, kicking in every direction searching for Sylar's feet, so she had a least something to stand on. As Claire looked down she could see the truck stopping and two men climbing out of it, staring at the flying escapees in disbelief.

Sylar's lips formed into a smirk and he started to fly in the direction they had been running to. Claire considered fighting until he let her fall down, but that would just lead to his escape and her recapture. Instead she just stayed were she was held securely in her the arms of the man who murdered her parents.

In the distance she could see the shore and the wide blue ocean. As she looked back she couldn't even see the prison any more, it was hidden between the thick, green jungle. No one would expect or look for it here as that had been made sure of. Sighing, Claire closed her eyes trying to ignore the urge to throw up and counted the seconds to the end of this flight, wondering what Sylar might do to her as soon as they landed.

* * *

**OMG, I'm sorry it took me so long to update. There were a lot of reasons for that (lazyness, really weird experiences that freaked me out), but I will update sooner from now on. I also have only one week of school left :)))**

**So thanks to : WOWcow, Flyfreejuly, lostiesgirl, sylar1610, heroesfan1, SisterRose94, elliedee96, tatania, sambam17 and Regin for the reviews you guys are awesome :) And of course thanks to askclairebennet from tumblr who made that chapter into something legible ;D **

**live long and prosper~ kiwi **


	3. Chapter 3 - The Island

**Disclaimer: All rights to Tim Kring.**

* * *

Chapter 3

The sky had darkened during their flight. After Claire caught sight of the first lights of the unknown coast after hours of the ocean's devouring darkness, her heart had been filled with relief. She had been in Sylar's arms for much too long. As soon as his feet touched the sandy ground beneath them Claire pushed herself off his chest. The warm wind played with her blood stained hair as Claire took a look at their surroundings.

It was dark, but she could glimpse a small, white boat, with green and red lines, laying in the sand. A few grey stones peaked through the white sand and further away bushes rustled in the wind. As Claire turned around she could see Sylar sitting down on one of the stones, placing his palms on both of his knees and closing his eyes. The clothes he was wearing were covered with dirt and blood and had been torn apart at some places at their escape. She most likely looked just like him.

"So, where are we?" she demanded, looking onto the soundly waves of the ocean, so she didn't have to meet the killer's eyes.

"I don't know," he answered, still out of breath from the flight, "But it looks like we're in the Caribbean, or somewhere near."

The cheerleader's mouth twisted. The Caribbean was still a long way from home. Her eyes turned back to the grass and bushes as she tried to make out what was expecting her at the horizon.

_I need to find a town first, somewhere I can call Dad. Or Peter._

She hated the thought of being dependent on her relatives to handle the situation, but she couldn't stay near Sylar any longer. Ignoring the disgusting feeling of the clothes against her skin and the soundly growling of her stomach she started to move. If she followed the coast long enough she would find a town sooner or later, she just had to be careful. A young, blood-covered blonde could cause a bit of sensation.

"Hey, where are you going?" she could hear Sylar shouting behind her, but Claire didn't make an attempt to turn around. Without starting to run she tried to move faster as she heard Sylar coming closer, but he caught up with her soon.

"Did you hear me?" he asked annoyed and Claire smiled crookedly. "Yes," she stated, without lowering her speed.

"So, what's you're great plan? _Walking _back to California?"

She rolled her eyes. Why couldn't he just fly away and leave her alone? "Why do you care, afraid you won't find the way on your own?"

Sylar was now walking next to her, so Claire didn't even try to run away. She felt the cool water twirling around her toes with every wave. She could hear a quiet chuckle next to her, but he didn't come up with a clever answer.

"And what do you plan to do if you reach a city?" he asked instead. Claire gritted her teeth and stared at a point at the ocean.

"Your face is all over the news and you don't look exactly normal. And do you really think those guys from the prison gave up looking for us?" Clenching her hands into fists Claire tried to think of ways to prove him wrong, but she couldn't find one. She hated it. She hated it when he was telling her things she already knew, but didn't want to admit to herself.

"I can look out for myself just fine," Claire hissed and looked up into his face. It was almost completely dark now and the shadows playing around his eyes made him look like an evil ghost, however he didn't speak like one.

"How do you want to get off this island?" he asked, without sarcasm. "You can't get on a plane or a boat and before anybody you call will be here they will have found you already."

Claire stopped abruptly and turned around, glaring up to her unwelcome company. "Why don't you just piss off and leave me alone, huh?" she hissed and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Don't give me that crap, okay, I don't need your help and I don't want it. I don't know what your plan is, but let me make something clear: You'll have to do it without me."

His eyes didn't leave hers as she spoke, but he didn't try to interrupt her. There was only the reflection of the moon inside of them, as his face lightened up. Surprised Claire turned around and gasped in panic. A helicopter was flying right into their direction, a bright searchlight flying over the water. Quickly, Claire threw herself to the ground and crawled behind one of the bigger rocks.

_They'll see me. _Claire tried to find a better hiding place but she couldn't find one, the environment was too open. _Run, _her brain screamed, but she knew she couldn't run fast enough. The noise of the helicopter came closer and closer. She could already see the sand in front of the rock lighten up as gunshots tore apart the air.

Claire waited for the bullets to hit her numb body, but they never reached her. Another few gunshots were shot and the blonde realized that they were not shooting at her. Carefully she peaked over the rock, to have a look at the ocean. Her mouth stood open as she watched Sylar flying around the helicopter, evading the bullets. For a second he looked down at her and their eyes met. Than he flew along the beach, into the direction they had come from earlier. And that was Claire's lead-in.

Without looking back she started to run into the opposite direction, not caring about the small stones that bore themselves into her soles. She tasted the salt of the sea on her tongue as she breathed and felt the sharp wind against her bare skin. All energy was leaving Claire's body, out of tiredness, hunger and helplessness, but she kept running.

* * *

Claire didn't know how long she had been sitting there, but it had to be hours, because the sun was already rising. Even though not much of the sunlight reached the young woman that sat behind three wooden boxes that stood in a dark, narrow street.

The boxes themselves were empty, and Claire was very thankful for that. After she had run for what had felt like hours she had finally reached a small town at a natural harbour. If you could call that a town, it was more like a small settlement of run-down looking huts and houses. There were some boats, loaded with fish and mussels, which was accompanied by a terrible smell. Claire had been hiding behind one of the huts, as she had heard two men talking; one of them had a French accent. She had hidden behind those boxes as she had heard the sound of the helicopter coming back.

Claire sighed in frustration. _What am I supposed to do now? Hide here forever? _Her feet and hands were completely covered in mud and her bloody clothes were sweaty, she couldn't possible feel any dirtier. Even though she sat in the shadows, the warmth and the humidity were overwhelming and made her feel even more tired. She could have slept here on the street if there hadn't been the constant growling of her stomach that kept her awake.

Claire wondered, if anybody was looking for her. Her dad must have noticed that she was gone, or Peter, or Gretchen. A cold shiver ran down her spine as a terrifying thought came to her mind. There had been so many other cells in the prison, what if her friends or family members had been locked up inside of them? If they were after her and Sylar, why shouldn't they be after Peter? She needed to get away from this island. She needed to get help. What did they even want with the Specials? Test on them—like the company? Or did they want something entirely else?

She remembered the man, who had given the commands back at the prison.

_Lock her up in one of the cells, before she wakes up. Then bring him in._

So they did have more plans for her than just locking her up, but what kind of plans? She was probably going to find out, if she couldn't get off this island soon. Claire had thought about stealing a phone or one of the boats, but she didn't know how to get near one of those men, because they were never alone. Maybe if she could sneak up on them...

She was distracted by the sound of footsteps in front of her boxes. They were quiet, like somebody was crawling along the walls, but still it made Claire's heartbeat go faster. Quickly she searched for a way to escape. Careful not to make any sound she pushed her back against the wall and started sliding along it, so she would fit behind the largest box. Creeping along the wall she hoped, the person would not come around the corner, but her hopes should be destroyed.

Just as Claire was about to leave the narrow gap she was in, an unfamiliar face appeared in front of her. Claire was relieved that he was obviously not an agent, but that relieve was short-lived. The man in front of her was shaved bold and an ugly looking scar crossed his sun darked face. He looked like he hadn't showered in days and a bent knife in his waistband reflected the little light that reached the narrow street.

"Hey, don't freak out, it's just me," the man said and it took Claire a moment to understand what he was talking about. She frowned and pushed herself through the gap, sliding around him.

_Ugh, I hate shape shifting. _Unwillingly, the blonde thought about the moment in the closet, when her best friend had suddenly morphed into her arch enemy. She had never told anyone, but since that day, she was hyper-aware of anybody, who was behaving weird or could possibly be Sylar. The thought of him nearby—without her knowing—like the time in Stanton Hotel, sent shivers down her spine.

"How the hell did you find me?" Claire asked, while the face in front of her changed into Sylar's again. The blood on his face was gone and he was wearing new clothes, a grey shirt, a thin black jacket and dark pants. "Clairsentience." he answered and shrug his shoulders. "Couldn't just leave you behind, could I?"

Claire's brows furrowed. "Who'd you kill for that one?" Sylar's jaw tensed, but he didn't break eye contact, Claire couldn't tell if out of pride or fear. Still his eyes held a weird expression, she had never seen on him like this.

"Let's go, shall we?" he finally said and turned around. Unsure of what to do Claire decided to follow him.

Her feelings told her to run as fast as possible so she wouldn't have to stay near the killer any longer, but the part of her brain that wasn't influenced by her hate, told her that this was the possibility she had waited for. Sylar could take her to California easily and the agents wouldn't be that much of a problem either. But the question she had for a day now remained unanswered.

Why was Sylar helping her? In the last day he had saved her from the security guards more than one time, dragged her out of a high-tech prison, flew her around for hours and came back from God knows where to fetch her up. If she didn't know better you could even say he distracted the helicopter earlier to help her escape.

The problem was, he had absolutely no motive or reason to help her. He got what he wanted in Arlington. She was no use to him any more.

Sighing Claire moved closer so she could talk to Sylar quietly. "So where are we going?" she asked, wanting to punch herself in the face as she realized that she had used the word 'we'.

_There is no 'us'. There is only 'he' and 'I'._

"A few streets from here is a little... Well, I wouldn't call it a motel, but it offers a room with four walls." he muttered. As he turned around to face Claire's questioning look he continued.

"I led the helicopter southwards. I landed somewhere in Haiti and they lost my track there. They probably think I am long gone in the United States, but they will sure as hell come back to look for you—if they aren't already here."

They had reached a cross road and before Claire could cross it, Sylar turned around and stopped walking. Behind his back Claire could see two men strolling along the street, one of them holding a suspicious looking package. "They're not agents, are they?" Claire asked. Sylar shook his head and raised an eyebrow. "No, but I think, fish isn't the only thing those guys are dealing with so you probably shouldn't be seen near the harbour."

Claire almost stumbled over her own feet, as Sylar began to move again. The heat was even more stifling than before and the lack of sleep, food and water didn't make it any easier for her undying body to keep upwards. The air was filled with the smell of fish and oil, which made Claire's empty stomach turn. They stopped behind one of the taller buildings, which walls had probably once been white, but were now covered by a shimmering, yellow film. Claire wasn't exactly after seeing the inside.

"We better get in through the window," Sylar suggested and pulled down a rusty ladder, which didn't seem to fulfil its role of safety.

"I guess old habits die hard," the blonde muttered as she started to climb upwards. The metal was leaving red remains on her palms. She looked down at Sylar who pointed at a window on the second floor which stood half open. Slowly she pushed the window up completely and put one foot on the window-sill, then the other one and with a sliding motion she was finally standing inside a dark, dusty and musty smelling room.

There was only one light bulb, miserably hanging from a wire that was cracking out of the brittle ceiling. A small table and two chairs stood in the right corner and a black rucksack lay on one of the chairs. On the left side of the room was an old mattress, which Claire wouldn't even touch with her pinky toe, and a washbasin that looked like it would fall off the wall any second. The walls were covered by yellowish wallpaper that pealed itself off the concrete behind.

_At least it really _has_ four walls as promised_, Claire thought and stuck her head back out of the window. Sylar was gone and instead of him his new human frame moved his head upwards.

"I'm gonna search something to eat," he said, with a voice that was higher and huskier than his own. Without having met her eyes he looked down on the street again. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." he continued and started to leave before Claire could answer.

Brooding Claire watched the man turn around the corner. _Do I want to get away from him, or does he want to get away from me? _Slowly she walked over the rough floor. A few splinters tried to bore through her skin, but the wound closed itself, before they even had a chance. Since she had nothing to do she decided to rummage through Sylar's bag.

Curiously Claire opened the zipper. What was a serial killer usually wearing with him? Knifes and Guns? Blood-repellent clothes? Some freaky voodoo dolls? The actual content of the bag was much less interesting. Claire found a small map and an empty bottle of water. As she rooted deeper her fingers got in touch with something softer. She grabbed it and pulled her hand out of the bag, so slowly a white top became visible. Claire wondered, why Sylar would have something like that with him, it was like a hundred sizes too small for him, as she noticed that it was a girl's shirt. The fact that Sylar was carrying women's clothes with him was even more disturbing until the penny finally dropped.

_Did Sylar get me clothes to freaking change?! _Disbelieving she stared at the top for a few seconds. It was even in the right size._ How the fuck does he know what size I need?! _Twenty possible reasons popped up in her head, one more disgusting and terrifying than the other. This whole situation was just getting crazier every second. Even though Claire wanted only few things more than getting out of the gear she was wearing, the idea of having something on her body that Sylar had picked out for her lowered her desire.

_That's like choosing between pest and cholera._

Sighing she threw the top on the table. Nope. She wasn't going to wear that. Turning her attention back to the bag she also found a pair of shorts (that were actually kind of cute) which landed right next to the shirt. By removing the shorts a small shimmer appeared at the rucksack's bottom. The cheerleader enclosed the cold object with her tiny hand and looked at it hopefully. Even though it was a really old model the small cell phone gave Claire the possibility to get help. She wouldn't be depending on Sylar any longer and could just walk out of this revolting room and never see him again. As she opened the cell phone the display threw a dazzling light at her.

Right as she was about to dial a number something else caught Claire's attention. Three hours ago someone had called a New York number.

_Who would Sylar call? _He must have a plan, that's also why he acted so nice to her. As if he seriously wanted to help her, he probably just wanted to hand her to someone and get a few new abilities as a reward. Determined Claire pushed the green button and held the phone to her ear shell. If Sylar was planning anything concerning her or anyone she knew, she sure as hell would find out and spike his guns.

"Gabe, did something happen?"

Claire's breath got caught in her throat of the sound of that familiar voice.

"P—Peter?!" she stuttered and heard a few noises at the end of the line. "Claire! Are you okay, are you safe? Did they find you?" The untamed concern of her uncle loosened the tension in her chest a bit. It was a relief to hear his voice, the voice of her hero, who would save her from the world.

"Yes, I'm fine. More or less. Pete, I'm stuck on this island with Sylar! And agents are after me." She was aware not to use the word 'us' again.

"Yeah, I know, he told me. Don't worry, he'll get you out of there."

Claire's eyes widened in shock. _No This can't be real, what has he done?_

"Peter, what are you talking about? It's Sylar, for God's sake!" she shouted, frustration and shock were making her voice go up and down. There was a small pause at the other end, it was seconds, but it felt like hours to Claire.

"He hasn't told you yet, has he?" Peter asked with sudden seriousness. Claire ran her fingers through her hair.

"Told me what?" What could have happened that everything of this was even possible, why wasn't Peter on his way to her, heroic and determined to keep the man that murdered his brother in cold blood away from his only niece?

"Look, Claire," Peter continued, talking quicker now, "We have to keep this call under 30 seconds, or they will track you down. Everything will be all right I promise. Keep safe and don't try to escape on your own. I love you."

Before Claire could answer anything Peter's voice was replaced by the jarring sound of the cell phone. This couldn't be, this just _couldn't be! _Not him, not Peter. Claire threw the phone against the wall with all her force, watching as it burst into small pieces that rained down onto the floor.

Why was Peter trusting Sylar, why was he leaving her here with him, what did Sylar do to him? Was this his great plan? To take away her only living relative she trusted completely, the person who had sworn would never lie to her, the only one she could hold onto when everything else would break down? To see her all alone in the world, just like he was, because he couldn't stand the thought of her being happier than him, having more, _deserving _more. To show her just how alike they were, like they were in his sick mind?

Just as Claire was about to scream out loud in frustration, the door on the other end of the room opened and Sylar slid into the room. He was holding a plastic bag and threw the keys on the mattress while he yawned. He didn't see the approaching blonde soon enough and stumbled backwards as both of her fists hit him in the chest with full force. Groaning his back smashed against the wall as he quickly covered his chest with his arms.

"What the hell!?" he shouted, his voice contorted by pain.

"What did you do to him?" Claire shouted, fighting the urge to hit him again, to make him scream.

"I don't even know what you're talking about," he groaned. Claire's hand was rushing through the air, aiming at his face but the man in front of her was quicker. His hand enclosed her wrist and held it in place with so much strength that it would have hurt had Sylar not taken the ability to feel pain away from her like everything else. Their faces were only inches apart now and his gaze was as intensive as never before. Claire's green eyes glared back at him, trying to make him see the hate that ran through every vein of her body.

"What did you do to Peter?" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but her words still made Sylar's eye widen. He pushed her arm away and Claire stumbled a few steps back. For a moment he just looked at her. His eyes went downwards into the direction of the broken phone's pieces. "Nothing."

His answer made Claire turn around furiously, stamping through the room just to stop next to the milky window. "Are you controlling his mind? Did you brainwash him?" A dry laughter escaped Claire's throat, as she looked at Sylar with nothing but disgust. "Is this your big plan? Taking away anything from me you can never have?"

Sylar closed his eyes and shook his head a little, like Claire's words gave him physical pain. His hands clenched into fists as he directed his look at her again. "I'm not trying to take anything away from you," he said, calming his voice down with every word, "Some..Some things happened that you don't know about and Peter..."

"He what? Suddenly trusts you, the man that killed the most important person in his life?" Claire straightened her spine. "And now you tell me what you have done or I swear I will find a way to make you."

Sylar now avoided looking into her eyes, seeming to search for something on the floor. Claire was still wondering about his weird behaviour, but kept in mind that it was possibly just a cover.

"Fine." he finally said and walked across the room until he had reached one of the chairs. He turned it around and sat down, kneading his hands on his lap. Claire kept standing instead of taking the seat next to him.

"But it might take a while." His eyes finally came up to meet hers again.

* * *

The sun let the small dust particles in the room shine, as they fly threw the air with smooth motions. The noises of wheels moving on the sandy ground and people talking in different languages found their way into the small room. Outside of it everything was normal. Like Claire's worst nightmare hadn't come true for her uncle and Sylar.

Sylar hadn't changed is position since he had begun talking and the blonde was now sitting on the second chair in front of the wooden door that separated the room from the hallway. Claire hadn't spoken once during the man's story and had tried not to let her unemotional mask slip. In reality her mind was roiling.

"After that the wall just broke down and we were back in Parkman's basement. It had been hours to the real world, while it had been years to us. The end of the story is quite simple, we flew to New York, I saved Emma, Peter stopped Samuel... and now we're here."

Claire's face didn't change, she kept staring at Sylar with an indescribable expression. He sighed and ran his hand through his dark strands of hair.

"I know, you won't believe me when I say it, but I have changed. It's hard to understand, but I'm never going to hurt someone again. I'm so glad Peter hasn't let me down and believes in me and everything that is happening right now gives me hope. If such a terrible world can change into something better, then I can, too. I don't expect your forgiveness, I don't even expect you to believe me, but I needed to tell you."

The tension in the room was almost tangible as it ran through the air and through them like electricity. The sudden silence stretched the seconds into minutes, in which Sylar just gazed at Claire with no expression of superiority, hate or satisfaction, but with honesty, openness and vulnerability. It was like the stone cold mask he had worn for years had cracked up and revealed something different.

"I'm sorry, Claire. For everything."

The words were nothing more than a whisper yet still they echoed inside of Claire's head. Slowly the young woman stood up and straightened her back, feeling the life coming back into her unmoved body.

"It changes nothing." she said aloud, watching Sylar's face flinch. Then she turned around, opened the door and left the man inside behind, while he was staring at the empty chair in front of him.

* * *

**As promised a sooner update like last time :D So apparentely Sylar is a fashion expert (who would have thought ;)). Also, Claire is confronted with new!Sylar for the first time, I hope you guys like the ending, I gave my best :)**

**Thanks to my wonderful reviewers and my fantastic beta. If you like the chapter (or didn't!) leave a review, they always inspire me to write :)**

**- Doro:***


	4. Chapter 4 - Coming Together

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. And wont change sadly.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_A few days ago – January 7th , 2010_

The soothing rustling of the trees didn't lower the tension and attention inside Matt Parkman's chest. Even though it was winter the air in the Californian forest was still mild and almost made the invisible icy hands around Matt's neck disappear. Almost.

_This was a bad idea. I should have just let him go and stayed with Mattie and Janice._

But after everything that happened he didn't want to be a coward any more. He wouldn't stay at home and hide from everything evil and dangerous, like Bennet had accused him. Still cold sweat ran down his temple, because Matt was waiting for the most evil and dangerous one of them all.

He took a sharp breath as a tall and dark figure stepped out between the sparse bushes. Sylar had his hands tucked in his pockets and took a curious look at his new surroundings. Every muscle in Matt's body was tensed. He remembered what he had seen, the good and heroic attentions in Sylar's head, but the guy was a psychopath. His mind and his heart could change any second.

"I would have expected a dark underground parking lot," Sylar began and smirked, "I don't know about you, but I also look good in a trench coat." His eyebrows rose and a small chuckle escaped his lips.

_What version of him is it this time? _Matt had seen so many different Sylars and Gabriels, he wasn't sure who he was dealing with now. He knew Peter trusted the man with his life, with his girlfriend's life and that Sylar had helped him save the people on the carnival. Furthermore, he wouldn't have agreed to meet up with the man who imprisoned him in the worst nightmare imaginable if he wasn't sure about his priorities.

Of course Matt had thought about the possibility that Sylar came here to get his revenge on him—for everything wrong the mind-reader had done. He was aware of the danger the killer brought with him, but he couldn't just leave him running around without being sure he wouldn't hurt anyone again. He had already overpowered him once, he could do it again. Matt knew the gun that was tucked in his waistband securely wouldn't be much of a defence against Sylar, still it gave him a familiar feeling of security. It also reminded him of his job, to find criminals and to keep them in check, even if his actions may endanger his own life. Bennet and Sylar could say what they want, Matt was still a cop and he wasn't afraid of losing his life by fulfilling his duty.

"Don't you think that would be a bit too much of a cliché?" Matt huffed, putting both hands into his pockets and biting his lower lip. Sylar gave him a lazy half grin and took a few slow steps towards the cop, careful not to break eye contact.

"So, why don't we get over with why we're here?" Matt's eyebrows furrowed at the confidence in Sylar's voice. Two days ago this man sat in his apartment, besides himself and asking him to take his powers away by entering his head. Even if he had really spent five years in a mental prison, shouldn't his soul be more shattered than before? Shouldn't he be broken and out of hope, instead of finding new one in everything he did? Matt shook his head and sighed.

"Not afraid I might mess with your head again?" he asked sarcastically, but tried to add a note of a threat. Sylar rolled his eyes. "Got nothing to hide and if you think I would let you control my mind again then you are wrong."

Sylar took a few more steps until he stood right in front of Matt and cocked his head as an invitation. Matt's eyes tightened as he hesitated to enter the killers mind. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was a bit scared of what he might find. He would either find the same insane and murderous thoughts as always or he would find what Peter had promised, a new man who tried to redeem himself. Matt didn't know which occurred more terrifying to him.

He took a deep breath and slowly groped his way into Sylar's mind. His ability met only small resistance and suddenly he could see everything.

He saw empty streets, empty parks, empty apartments. The only moving thing was a small and dark figure which crawled through the lonely roads, desperately looking for another soul. Three years of solitude, full of screaming, desperation and loneliness rushed through before his mental eyes as Sylar led him further into his memories. He showed him how Peter had entered the cold prison. Matt could feel Sylar's joy, his fear, his frustration as he tried to get Peter to talk to him. He heard the constant sound of metal hitting the cold and intransigent stone of The Wall. With every thrust, every hour their hope gave way to the unavoidable loneliness and desperation. Sylar's regret laid itself on Matt's shoulders and seemed to push him onto the ground with its gravity. After years of fighting, screaming and silence he could see the first real contact between the two men. He saw them talking, playing cards or scrabble, reading the same book over and over again, trying to find the only possible comfort in this world, the comfort in each other. Over the years they became closer to each other, avoided the topics that would tear the friendship apart, until they were ready to talk about them. Sylar told him that Peter had helped him dealing with everything in his past, helped him becoming more human again, but he didn't show the mind-reader memories of their talks and struggles. Those were their memories. He could re-feel Gabriel's trust, his hope, his dreams his intentions to be a better man. He heard the last few knocks against the wall until it finally fell.

Breathing heavily Matt stumbled backwards, almost so uncontrolled that he hit the ground. His head was throbbing from the intensive memories he had seen. His throat was dried out, as if he had lived through those eight years in reality. Groaning he stood up straight again and watched Sylar looking at Matt with his lips awkwardly pressed together.

"You okay?" he asked half-hearted and Matt nodded. Right as he was about to say something Sylar's body tensed and his hand moved upwards. "Shhhhh," he whispered and slightly cocked his head.

"What?" Matt whispered back and carefully examined their surroundings. He couldn't see or hear anything, so he threw a questioning look at the man in front of him.

"Does anybody know we're here?" Sylar asked quietly and Matt shook his head. "No...just Janice, what is...?"

"Did anybody follow you?" he queried, now aggressively.

"I don't know, why would anybody follow me?" Just as he had spoken out this sentence Sylar's hand cut through the air like a knife. At first Matt thought he would attack him until he saw the black, metallic tasers that floated next to his chest.

He had little time to react when suddenly another wave of shots flew into his direction. Sylar was busy defending himself, so Matt had to throw himself on the ground to escape the tasers. A team of dark clothed figures appeared behind the bushes and stalked their way into the Specials' direction.

Breathing heavily Matt grabbed his gun and aimed at the agent closest to him. He didn't see the other one coming who kicked the weapon out of his hands and aimed his own on the cop instead.

"You don't want to shoot me," thought Matt and directed all of his energy on the agent. The man shook his head, aimed at his partner, who fell on the ground with a thud.

As Matt stood up there were at least fifteen agents around Sylar, while the killer tried to keep them away with telekinesis. Three tasers stuck in his chest, but it would take a lot more to knock him out.

"Run!" Sylar shouted and without further warning every man between Sylar and Matt threw through the air like they were puppets. Matt turned his back to the group and started running as as fast an he could. The ground was dry, but there were many roots peeking out of the earth, so Matt was more stumbling than running. Soon the cop sensed someone was catching up with him and a few seconds later Sylar's form appeared on his right side.

Matt's knee, the one that had been injured by Eli, was burning like fire and he wished nothing more than to stop running. He could hear Sylar shouting, telling him to move faster, but Matt just couldn't. The pain distracted him too much and he didn't see the root that snaked around his feet.

With a gasp of surprise Matt lost hold under his feet and crashed down onto the hard soil. Matt swallowed a scream as his injured knee met the inflexible ground. The only thing he felt was how something switched and how a sharp pain ran up his whole leg. As he tried to move the pain became even worse and Matt gritted his teeth in agony. He almost didn't notice the large hand that enclosed his trembling shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Sylar asked quickly, throwing glances over his shoulder, to make sure they were still alone. "No," Matt moaned, "I can't move my leg."

He heard Sylar cursing under his breath and Matt tried to lift himself off the ground as far as possible. Sighing Sylar positioned himself behind Matt and tried to move him from his current location to a small rock, that was still hidden enough to cover both of them.

"Can you hide us from them?" Sylar asked, while he held Matt's knee in place. The cop's face twisted as he let his back fall against the cool stone. "No not all of them," he admitted.

Sylar bit his lower lip and peeked over the stone carefully. "Well, then good luck with the ones that will be left," he muttered and before Matt could ask what he meant Sylar jumped onto his feet and left the rock's cover. Matt couldn't follow his track with his eyes but after a few moments he heard a man's voice shouting orders and a large group of people running southwards. Now and then the sound of flying tasers cut through the air, but soon the sounds were so far away they didn't even reach Matt's ears any more.

_Did Sylar just...lure the agents away from me?_

He couldn't really believe his own idea, but he knew he needed to get out of the forest quickly. They knew who he was, they knew about his ability. Matt prayed to God that they hadn't already overrun his home and that Janice and Mattie were both still all right. He needed to get them out of town to another place, were they would be safe.

Groaning Matt lifted himself from the ground, ignoring the white, burning pain in his knee. They would eventually come back, so he couldn't lose any time. As fast as he could, the cop limped through the woods carefully watching the ground. Something in his knee felt terribly misplaced, but he couldn't care about that right now.

Suddenly, out of the nothing, three of his dark hunters approached him with lifted weapons. "I'm one of you, remember?" Matt stuttered and his ability showed its effect. "Sure, where did he go?" one of the men asked and lowered his weapon.

Matt gritted his teeth. Sylar would be able to handle three more guys, but he had still saved his life. Sighing Matt answered, "Westwards. He ran westwards." The three men nodded and started running and Matt looked after them until their shady forms disappeared between the trees and bushes.

_I can't believe I just did that. _Still it felt, like he had done the right thing. Now he just needed to leave this forest, find his family and protect them.

_Present – January 10__th__, 2010_

Sighing, the young man lay his face into his hands. Why was this so hard? It was dark outside, so the huge and open room was illuminated by the expensive designer lamps that decorated the whole beach house. As Peter looked up again five serious faces required answers and justification from him. The small group was sitting at the big, white dining table in the living room. They chose it instead of the splendid couch, because they were able to see everybody, which was important, especially for Emma, since she had to read lips. Additionally the luxury they had found in the beach house made everybody, except Tracy, who was used to this kind of environment, feel uncomfortable.

As Angela had told Peter to bring everybody here, he hadn't expected such a huge house, something he hadn't even known his family possessed, by the way. Angela herself hadn't come with them, she had said she had things to take care of. Peter hadn't asked further and had done as he had been told.

Peter sighed again. "Can't you just give him a chance, it won't kill you, if you do." He didn't know how often he had told them that Gabriel had changed and that Sylar was dead, but apparently his voice was meeting walls.

"Well except that it will!" Noah muttered and stood up, creeping through the room nervously. As Peter had told him where Claire was and who she was with, he had almost ripped his head off. Also, he now looked at Peter with a slightly murderous expression. Of course Peter understood his distrust, but why did all Bennets have to be so stubborn?

"Like I told you before, I wouldn't have let him go anywhere near the carnival, if I wouldn't trust him completely." Noah just shook his head and looked at Peter in disgust. "Maybe Peter is right," Hiro stated with his Japanese accent, "People change."

"No, they don't. That's the whole point." Noah shouted, as if he was explaining them that the earth wasn't flat. Peter rolled his eyes. "You should be the one to know that people can change. Gabriel changed into someone entirely else a long time ago, right in front of your eyes, remember?"

Noah's eyes furrowed and he said nothing for a long moment, probably asking himself how much Peter knew and Peter knew everything. "That was not a change. It was just the inevitable releasing of his true nature."

Peter pressed his lips together. He had sworn to himself that his friendship with Gabriel would not affect any other relationship he has, but Noah was making it very hard not to blame him for everything. Searching for help he examined the other faces around him. "Matt, please say something." he begged and Matt shifted on his chair uncomfortably.

After Peter had tried to persuade everyone for some time, Matt had finally - and very hesitatingly - told his own story of his last encounter with Gabriel. Peter hadn't known about it so far, but he hadn't been surprised. Matt sighed and rubbed his knee, which was enclosed by a thick bandage. As Peter had found Matt, he had been desperately looking for some place he could hide his family, which was now in one of the bedrooms in the upper floor. "He isn't the same as before, Peter's right about that." he muttered and rose both eyebrows.

Noah's face twisted as he started to walk through the room faster. "Are you sure you checked his whole mind?" he asked and Matt nodded. "He could have fooled you, you know how wicked he is," Bennet continued ignoring Peter's annoyed snorting, "He could also have fooled Peter, I mean, you spend five virtual years inside a psychopaths mind, maybe you didn't even notice what he did."

"Are you even considering the possibility…" Peter started, but he was cut off by Noah. "No, I'm not considering it! He's a monster!"

"Just concentrate on the simple facts, Noah!" the nurse required, "He saved Emma's live, he saved Matt's live and right now, while we are having this argument, he is about to save Claire's life." At the mentioning of her name Noah crept closer to the table and put both of his tensed hands on the

table top. "I still can't believe that you just let her be alone with him. I swear I will make you responsible for everything he might have done to her."

"You know how much I care about Claire, I wouldn't let anything happen to her, ever." Peter leaned back into his chair and watched Noah intensely then he smiled and looked at the other Specials at the table. Matt's eyes were switching from Peter to Noah, as if he couldn't decide which side to take. Hiro, Emma and Tracy hadn't said much the whole discussion long, still they had listened to it very carefully. "Just give it a chance," Peter suggested, "He's the most powerful of us and wants to help. I trust him and I promise, if he hurts anyone, I will end him myself. So what do you think?"

"I trust you." Hiro said with a smile, "And everybody deserves a second chance."

Tracy finally spoke her mind and she was probably the only one Noah would still listen to. "He is the most powerful of us. We might as well take advantage of that. Who knows what will be coming." Noah looked at her in disbelieve, but Tracy just shrugged her shoulders and waited for Matt's response. The cop took a deep breath and crossed both arms in front of his chest. "I know what I saw, but I'm still not feeling good about this," he finally said.

Emma just smiled reassuringly at Peter. He was so glad she had agreed to come with him. First, because she was close to him, so he could protect her and second... she made him feel balanced. After everything he had been through in the prison Emma felt like a safe haven, someone he could turn to and someone who would always be there. Her smile alone could make him forget the stress and the fighting, the change of the world and the difficulties they were about to face. She radiated easiness and security, like a sheltering aura. She felt like peace.

"Fine," Noah muttered and finally sat down, "If you want to keep your new pet here, do so. But as soon as Claire is here I will leave with her." Peter glanced at Noah and had to swallow a smile. Claire would so_ not _leave the place where they would make the plans for the oncoming storm, with or without Sylar near her.

"Guys," Emma gasped and pointed out of the panorama window. Peter turned around, alarmed by her surprise. It was dark outside but he could descent two people landing on the sand in front of the house. "They're here," he stated, just to see that Noah was already on his way to his daughter.

_Well this is going to be fun, _Peter thought, but smiled as he saw Claire untangling herself from Gabriel's arms furiously. It seemed like she was all right. The glass door at the end of the room gave way to the force of Noah's hand and swung open, so that the chilly, salty air entered the living room. Quickly Peter went after the man, followed by Emma. She was quite fond of Gabriel since he had saved her life, even after Peter had told her about their shared past.

"Get away from her!" Noah shouted at Gabriel and Peter rolled his eyes. "Claire! Claire, are you all right?" Claire stepped into the dimmed light and looked up to her father, an annoyed expression on her face. She was wearing a white top and khaki coloured shorts and looked like she hadn't slept in a while.

"I'm fine, Dad." she muttered and put her arms around his body as he pulled her close. Noah kissed his daughter's head and laid his hands onto her shoulders. As Claire searched for Peter's eyes he smiled at her brightly. He noticed how Claire tried not to smile back, but her lips obviously didn't follow her command.

Gabriel still stood a few meters away from the rest of the group, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. As Noah let go of Claire he sighed and raised both eyebrows. "Now to you!" Noah hissed and approached Gabriel. "Oh, don't worry, I'm fine, too," Gabriel answered and pulled a wolfish grin at the sight of Noah's knitting eyebrows. "Don't think I'm not looking through your little game."

"Now I'm the one playing games, how about you?" Sylar retorted and Peter saw the warning signs.

Quickly he rushed between the two men, laying his hand on each of their shoulders. "How about you two try not to kill each other, as long as we are around?" he suggested and smiled.

_I really need a babysitter for those two._

Noah glared at him in anger and pushed the nurse's hand off. "Don't worry, we won't be here much longer." Without another glance at Peter or Gabriel, Noah turned around and stomped into the house's direction, grabbing Claire's hand on his way. Gabriel was now approaching the nurse, exhaling heavily as he looked after Noah. "I missed him," he joked and Peter chuckled.

Right then Noah whispered something into Claire's ear, Peter couldn't understand, but by his niece's reaction he could guess what it had been. The blonde pulled her hand out of her father's, who looked at her in shock.

"I'm not leaving, we need to save them!" Claire shouted and Noah's brows furrowed. "Save who?"

Claire quickly glanced at Gabriel. "We were in a prison—it was almost like level 5! We were able to escape, but I'm sure there are other Specials they are keeping down there. Nobody knows about it, except us." The determination in Claire's voice left no doubt about Peter's previous suspicion. She wasn't going anywhere. He was relieved she wouldn't, because they really needed to talk about everything that had happened. The way he had told her about Gabriel over the phone hadn't been exactly sensitive and he wanted to apologize to her. The only thing he feared—not feared, he was terrified—was that she would feel betrayed by him. So many people had betrayed her and he had to make clear that he wasn't one of them.

"What kind of prison?" Noah asked, looking at his daughter, even though Gabriel was the one to answer. "It's on an island, somewhere near the Bermuda. I doubt it's on any satellite picture or on any other records. From the outside it looks like a normal facility that would hold terrorists or something and it might be but we were held in the basement. I have no idea how big this building is, or how deep it goes, but I'm also pretty sure that there are other Specials." Noah's eyes tightened, he was probably fighting the urge to pull his gun and shut Gabriel up himself. "If you don't know where it is, how are we supposed to find it?" he asked.

"If we look long enough, I would recognize the island, believe me. We just need to hurry or …" Claire was cut of by her father. "Or what, Claire? They kidnapped you from your apartment and you want to go back there? This is not going to happen."

Claire glared at her father and put her hands on her hip. "Well it's not your job to make any decisions for me any more! Those people need help and it's my fault they were locked up."

"Have you even seen anyone else?"

"No, but there were dozens of cells, they were sure as hell not empty."

"It's not your job to keep everyone safe from the government, I think you allowed yourself enough for a while."

"Goddammit, can't you see it's happening again?"

"All right, shut up, both of you!" Peter shouted and lifted both of his hands. "Fighting does not do anything good here. Claire, you are exhausted, why don't you go into the house and rest?" The blonde examined her uncle carefully and finally nodded, which took a weight off Peter's mind. "But you agree with me, don't you?" she asked and Peter bit his lip.

"I think we should talk about this tomorrow. You two tell us everything you know about the prison and then we plan on how to free the captives, okay?" Claire's brow furrowed and her mouth stood open as she gave Peter a disbelieving look. He swallowed. As he looked over to Gabriel, his friend held the same expression. Noah's judging eyes didn't make Peter feel any better, so he decided to break the uncomfortable silence. "Let's go in, shall we?" he suggested, focusing his eyes on his niece. He needed to talk to her. He couldn't leave this distrust he felt between them. She looked right back at him, understanding.

Muttering something under his breath Noah started to move, followed by his daughter. Gabriel made a few steps until he stood side by side with Peter. Emma came closer and laid one hand on Gabriel's upper arm, squeezing it gently. The tall man smiled at her comforting gesture.

"Are you okay, man?" Peter asked and Gabriel nodded silently. "Have you told her?" Gabriel nodded again and his face grew serious. "You should talk to her." he said, even though he knew that Peter already knew.

His face changed as he examined the huge, luxurious beach house, he almost looked pained. "I shouldn't stay." Peter knew how uncomfortable other people made Gabriel feel since they had left their prison and he could imagine how hard it would be for him, to stay in the same house with the one's he, had done wrong. "Don't worry, they're not gonna eat you." Peter assured him, but Gabriel just looked at him questioning.

"Besides, most of them are okay with you staying here." Emma added and took one of the boy's arms, moving them to the house. "They are?" Gabriel asked incredulously and Peter pulled both corners of his mouth downwards. "Well, they are not happy about it, but they tolerate it. Even Matt does... kind of." He grinned at his friend who just shook his head. "Well, then I might as well be useful and try to establish the location of that prison," he finally sighed, looking down onto the twirling sand. Peter studied the other man's features for a moment until he looked down, too.

"Still not sleeping?" he asked silently.

"Nope," Gabriel simply said as he walked through the glass door into the lion's cage.

Claire already lay on the huge, soft bed as she heard two knocks on the door to her room. She already knew who it was, so she lifted her upper body so that she was sitting in a cross-legged position. "Yes," she spoke and Peter's untamed bangs appeared behind the white door frame.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked with a concerned voice, closing the door silently. Claire moved to the right side of the bed, signalling Peter to sit down next to her.

"In accordance to the circumstances," she answered biting her lower lip. How was she going to start something like that? She had never believed to be at a point where she questioned her trust in Peter.

Peter examined her face intensely and sighed.

"I know how this must feel for you..."

"Oh, do you?" Claire interrupted. Peter shut his mouth. "Weren't you the one who told me, just a few weeks ago, that you would never lie to me or betray me?!" _How could you? _She had wanted this argument to be civilized but the volume of her voice rose with every word.

"I'm not betraying you in any way, Claire, that's what I wanted to say," he explained running his hand through his hair lazily. "It doesn't matter what happened, it will not change anything between us."

"But it does!" Claire shouted, jumping off the bed. "It changes everything! It's Sylar we are talking about, the man that still hunts me in my nightmares, the man that killed my mother, my father, _your brother_! How could you forgive him everything he has done to me?" She felt her eyes watered and turned her back to her uncle. She didn't want to see her cry over this. Not now.

"I didn't forgive him for the things he did to you. That's not something I'm able to do. I can just forgive him for the things he did to me." Claire heard him standing up and approaching her from behind, without touching her. "And it took me so long to achieve that, we had to go through so much."

Now Claire couldn't hold the tears that ran down her flushed cheeks. She didn't want to think about the world Sylar had told her about, about a hell out of empty streets. She didn't want to think about how it must have felt like for Peter.

"So it's true what he said?" she asked quietly, "About the five years?" As she turned around Peter looked at her with a pleading and pained expression that was begging her to understand. Claire wanted to understand so badly, she didn't want to loser her uncle, but that meant accepting Sylar was human and that was something she just could not do.

"It's all true. It took me five years to understand this man. It took us five years to leave all that crap behind and give him the possibility to restart. He's not Sylar any more, Claire."

Claire shook her head, letting more tears freely fall onto her face. "I know how this sounds," he continued, taking hold of Claire's trembling shoulders, "It took me long enough to accept it, too. But I finally did and do you know what it gave me? Relief." He started moving his thumbs in circles, trying to calm his niece down.

Claire avoided his eyes, they held too much honesty. She felt like her chest would be ripped apart, like two different forces pulled at it. "I will never stop loving Nathan." As Claire gazed at Peter's face she could see his own tears leaving his eyes as he spoke about his dead brother. "I will never stop wishing he was still alive. But he wouldn't have wanted to hold me back forever." His right hand moved to Claire's cheek and his thumb wiped the tears away.

"And I spent five years with Gabriel. He found peace in this hell and I found peace, too. I forgave him because I wanted to, because it gave me peace and helped me let go. And it also helped me to find my own faith again. I'm not asking you to forgive him, of course not. I'm not asking you to try. If you want to give him a chance, that's great! If not, it's fine, too. Just please don't think you wouldn't mean as much to me as before, or that I would ever betray you. Please don't ever think something like that, it would break my heart."

Claire couldn't fight any longer. Sobbing, she let herself fall against Peter's warm chest and let him wrap his arms around her. She couldn't be mad with him, not after what he had just told her. He was so human, so much like her and she would never turn her back on him.

They stood there for a while, resting in the embrace of the other. Claire had doubts. She was scared Peter's hopes might be destroyed, that Sylar would use his trust against him. But whatever would happen to Peter, it would also happen to her and Claire was sure that something would happen, that Sylar would slip someday. However, the only things she could do was being aware and protecting the ones she loved. Peter had real hopes on him, hopes Claire couldn't relate to, but she needed to accept it. She didn't need to accept that Sylar was somehow changed, she just needed to believe in Peter and protect him from his own mistakes.

* * *

**A/N: Did anyone notice what clothes Claire is wearing? ;) **

**Sorry it took me so long to update, I don't know how long it will take me from now on, because school is starting next wednesday and it's my last year soooo I will have much work to do :D But I won't leave this story behind, big promise :)**

**Doro**


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